


The Time Cat

by 796116311389



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: ACD Canon Crossover, Alien Cat, Angst, Banter, Christmas Eve, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27835510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/796116311389/pseuds/796116311389
Summary: John stares, blinks, then-"I'm sorry, but you're a cat. Cats don't talk."She flops to her side and cocks her head, "No, we don't usually. Humans are fairly dull conversation partners."
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61
Collections: Holmestice Exchange - Winter 2020





	The Time Cat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janto321 (FaceofMer)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/gifts).



The cat is a dainty grey tabby. Sherlock first brings her home mid September, her owner the victim at a crime scene. While John has always been more of a dog person, he also can't say no to Sherlock when he's so clearly delighted. 

He makes it clear that Sherlock is the one mainly responsible for the cat and that is, as they say, that. Sherlock delights in playing with her and petting her, and John privately delights in watching him. 

However, as John is about to find out, she does _not_ delight in watching them pussy foot around each other.

~

It's Christmas Eve and the day is clear and bitterly cold. John is home alone wrapping his final gifts for Sherlock. A book, some socks, a new slide set, and...a letter. John turns the letter over and over in his hands. He wrote and rewrote this letter probably a hundred times. He's still not sure if everything written within makes sense, but there's probably never been a coherent love confession in all the history of humankind. After all, love is chaos. 

He stares into the fire, thinking. What if he gives this letter to Sherlock and his feelings aren't mutual? He's almost positive, there's something there, unspoken, between them and if they could just put words to it, everything could change and for the better. 

But. 

What if...?

John looks down at his letter and cringes. No. It's too risky. 

He moves to toss the letter in the fire, when a very small, very American, very _exasperated_ voice says, "Ohmigod, seriously?"

John jumps to his feet and quickly looks around the room for the source of the voice. He doesn't see anyone, in fact, the only other creature in the flat is the little grey tabby watching him from the couch. He locks eyes with her. 

She yawns, "Yes. I'm the one who spoke. No, you're not crazy and, no, he didn't drug you."

John stares, blinks, then-

"I'm sorry, but you're a cat. Cats don't talk."

She flops to her side and cocks her head, "No, we don't usually. Humans are fairly dull conversation partners."

"Then, assuming this is real like you say, why are you talking to me?"

"Ugh, cause I'm sick of watching you two, lifetime after lifetime, dance around each other and never. Freaking. Confess." She rolls back up and gives John an accusatory stare. "Nine. Lives. I like a slow burn, but jesus christ you guys take it to a whole new level. Just freaking kiss already."

John, forgetting he was talking to a _cat_ , in his indignation, splutters, "Now wait just a minute. You don't know the first thing about Sherlock and I. You've only been her a few months, ok? We have a- a code, we stick to and the matter of my feelings, because Lord knows what Sherlock's are, are just personal, okay?"

"Actually I'd say I know quite a bit more about your feelings then even you do. As I said, I've been watching you two for lifetimes."

John scrunched up his face, "What on earth does that even mean?"

"Well. You know how cats have 9 lives? Well, I'm on number six. Five times I've watched you two meet up, fall in love and then freaking pussy foot around it, mutually pining to death. It. Is. Driving me. Nuts! And, quite frankly, I blame you."

"Me?"

The cat manages a disdainful look, "Yes. You. You're the one always getting married, 'oh, but king and country', and all sorts of excuses to avoid this thing between you and Sherlock. Take last time for instance. You were definitely, totally in love with Sherlock and what do you do? You get _married_ and then tell yourself your love for the man is just the world's most epic _bromance_."

John just blinks a moment and then falls into his chair, "When was last time?"

The cat looks him in the eye, lifts her leg over head, and cleans the back of her thigh before responding, "Late 1800s, Victorian England and all that. Sherlock brought me home after you left him."

"Really?"

"Yes, you were really here in the late 1800s mooning over him."

"Have we always been English, too?"

"No, thank God. But, last time you were. If you'd like I can show you."

John gives her a confused look, "How would you show me?"

"I'd take you there. I _can_ travel through time." She rolls her eyes at John. 

John gives a slightly hysterical laugh, "So, I'm sitting here, talking to a magical, time travelling cat?"

"Alien, but whatever floats your boat."

"Alien. Of course."

"Of course. Cats aren't native to earth." The 'duh' goes unspoken but John hears it all the same. 

"Sure. Fine. Why not? Show me my past life then."

"Awesome."

And suddenly John is standing outside in the snow. The late evening light waning, but still lit enough to show that he is definitely not in modern London anymore. Men and women dressed in period outfits like the ones he sees on TV, bustle past. Hansom cabs and other horse drawn carriages pull through the streets. 

And John can't deny it. He is in the past. 

"Well. Impressed?"

John looks to his left to see their grey tabby looking up at him impatiently. 

"Very impressed. Also mildly convinced I might be having a stroke or something."

"You're not. Stop being so dramatic. Is it really so hard to believe an alien cat has taken you back in time?"

John can't tell if she's being sarcastic or not so opts to not respond. 

He looks back up at London before him. "So, where are we? _When _are we?"__

__The tabby jumps up onto his shoulder, startling John slightly. "We're outside your home. You've finished dinner just a bit ago and you're about to head to Holmes' place for a visit and possibly a light supper. The year is 1902. Holmes ends up retiring next year to the countryside. Partly because of tonight."_ _

__"Holmes?"_ _

__"Well I can't be calling him Sherlock or we'll both be confused as to which one I'm referring too. Here your past lives are Watson and Holmes so I don't get freaking confused."_ _

__John puts his hands up in surrender at her tone, "Okay, okay. What happens tonight that makes him retire? And why are we living apart?"_ _

__"You're living apart because _you're_ married to a woman and it'd be a bit awkward for him to have to suffer that every day. As for what happens tonight, that's what we're going to watch."_ _

__John's eye catches movement across the street and is astonished to see a man very similar in appearance to himself, though clearly of this time, step out of one of the homes, lock the door, and begin heading down the street with a small paper wrapped gift._ _

__"Well don't just stand here dummy. Follow him!"_ _

__John jumps at her words and begins to walk after himself. He's surprised to realize that they're headed to 221B Baker Street._ _

__"Baker Street?," he questions, but all he gets is the cryptic response, " _Here dwell together still two men of note._ "_ _

__John shakes his head and catches up with Watson._ _

__They start to slow as they arrive at 221B. John hangs back though not wanting to scare his past self._ _

__"You do realise he can't see you right? In fact, you're as good as a ghost right now." John can hear the eye roll in her voice. He hadn't realized that but now that she's pointed it out, it's obvious no one can see him. He follows right up behind his past self and they all enter 221B together._ _

__John looks around the foyer and marvels how it's so familiar, but so very different at the same time._ _

__The cat leaps from his shoulder and daintly follows behind Watson up the seventeen steps to their flat. John trails behind slowly taking in all the details of their home._ _

__They reach the landing and John watches as Watson hesitantly and tentatively knocks on the door to the flat, as if he hopes to not disturb the occupant within. It makes John sad._ _

__A moment passes and John can hear someone approach the door. If he was shocked to see his past self, seeing Sherlock's past self is something else._ _

__Holmes opens the door and doesn't hide his smile at seeing Watson. He's fully dressed, with a house robe over everything and his dark hair slicked back. His face is flushed like John sometimes sees after he finishes playing vigorously on his violin._ _

__Watson notices his flush as well, "My goodness Holmes, are you all right? You're quite flushed."_ _

__Holmes gives a deep chuckle that gives John shivers and, from the way Watson subtly clenches his hand, he isn't wholly unaffected either._ _

__"Quite alright. I've just finished a round of composing not a quarter of an hour ago. It was invigorating." He smiles softly. "And I see you brought a regular of mine."_ _

__John nearly has a heart attack as Watson turns a faces him, but quickly realizes he's still invisible._ _

__Sherlock gives a laugh and bends over to pick up the tabby cat, "Wrong way." He straightens and the cat fits nearly wholly in his large hand. "She must have followed you in when you arrived." He steps back and allows Watson to enter into the flat._ _

__Holmes pets the tabby and she starts purring._ _

__John gives her a look, "I thought you said they couldn't see us."_ _

__"Hmmm, I said they couldn't see _you_. I, however, am a cat and I have needs." She sighs and twists her belly up so Holmes can stroke it. "And you, John Watson, are very stingy with your affection."_ _

__She sighs again and then attacks Holmes' hand and he let's her go. His attention refocuses on Watson who has removed his coat and now stands facing Holmes holding his papered gift. Holmes gives Watson a quizzical look._ _

__Watson gives a small smile of embarassment, "I hope you don't feel obliged by it, but I've gotten you a gift. Here." He holds out the gift which Holmes takes reverently._ _

__"My dear Watson, you could never oblige me." Holmes gently strokes the top of the gift, "Practical wrapping, but strong. It does it's job well." Holmes gives Watson a look to which Watson adverts his eyes and clears his throat._ _

__"Stop deducing it and open it."_ _

__Holmes smiles, "Of course." He gently unwraps the gift and his smile turns into a look of awed disbelief. "How did you know?"_ _

__Watson gives a grin. "I take it you like it then?"_ _

__Holmes looks up into Watson's eyes, "Like it? I love it. It's a perfect gift, but pray tell, how did you _know_? I've been told I am not an easy man to find a gift for and rarely do I receive something as thoughtful as this."_ _

__"Well, it's mostly down to my advantage of having been your friend and companion for so many years. I remembered that case we took in the west country last year. You had us stay an extra day so you could follow that beekeeper around. Then there's your love of sweets and, in particular, regional honies. And, finally, I know of your fondness for books which are hard to come by, though not necessarily rare. It took me a day and half to find that copy. I knew you didn't have any books on beekeeping specifically, and all of this knowledge coalesced into the gift before you."_ _

__John is surprised to see Holmes eyes are glossy, obviously moved by the care and effort Watson put into his gift. He's silent as he looks back down at the book and bites his lower lip. Watson waits patiently for Sherlock to respond._ _

__"I- I have something for you too. It's a letter. I wasn't actually going to give it to you, but I feel this gift perhaps means you may find the contents of the letter enlightening and, hopefully, you may reciprocate it's message." Holmes steps over to the mantle above the fireplace and opens a small lacquered wooden box and removed a wax sealed letter._ _

__He moves back to Watson who actually looks at the letter in Holmes' hand with trepidation. "I feel I may already know the contents of this letter and I must ask you if you're sure you don't want to just toss it in the fire."_ _

__John is looking at Holmes when Watson speaks and he doesn't miss the small flinch and look of hurt before Holmes schools his features into a neutral look. "Ah." He holds the letter back to himself. "Well. Since it seems the nature and contents of the letter have been deduced by you, I shall do as you say and toss it in the fire."_ _

__Watson seems to pick up on Holmes' hurt, but also seems clueless as to how to best comfort the man._ _

__Watson slips his coat back on, steps to Holmes and places an awkward hand on the man's shoulder. "If we were of another time, one more suited to such sentiment, I should think I would reciprocate your letter. I am truly sorry." His words are soft and sincere._ _

__They lock eyes and John can see it. The desire, the longing that passes between them._ _

__And then the moment passes. Watson pats Holmes' arm and departs._ _

__Holmes watches him go._ _

__He stands there a long time staring at the door to the flat before walking to the fire and tossing the letter into the flames._ _

__John watches Holmes as he sinks into his chair and begins to quietly cry. He's never seen Sherlock cry before and the sight before him shreds his heart because it's so wrong. Holmes, _Sherlock_ , does not deserve heartbreak. _ _

__John reaches out to comfort him, but his hand passes through him. He looks around for the tabby and spies her watching from the couch. "Is there nothing I can do? How can I help him?"_ _

__She cocks her head to the side, "This is the past John. There's nothing you can do. Everything has already happened."_ _

__John shakes his head and refocuses in Holmes. He has to do _something_. He refuses to stand by while any version of the man he loves suffers._ _

__"Holmes!"_ _

__"Holmes!"_ _

__"Sherlock!"_ _

___Sherlock!_ _ _

__John wakes with a start to the sight of Sherlock, _his Sherlock_ , gently stepping back from him, obviously having just shaken him awake. He blinks a few times and focuses on Sherlock. It's dark out and the only light in the room is the dying fire and the warm glow of the fairy lights. Sherlock is still in his great coat and scarf, hair dusted with unmelted snow. His cheeks are flushed with the cold. Everything makes him look both ethereal and so real to John at the same time. _ _

__John takes in his best friend, his love's, concerned face._ _

__Sherlock gestures vaguely, "I thought you were having a nightmare. You were shouting my name..." He trails off looking guilty._ _

__John coughs slightly, "Not exactly a nightmare. In fact, it was so vivid, I thought it had been real, but cats don't talk so..."_ _

__Sherlock gives John a confused look at that but doesn't say anything. His eyes suddenly catch on something to John's side. John follows his gaze and spies his enveloped letter with Sherlock's name neatly printed on it._ _

__John picks it up._ _

__He could still toss it in the fire, but after everything he experienced this evening he knows now is the right time._ _

__He hands the letter to Sherlock. "This is for you. I believe you may find the contents enlightening and hopefully, well. Just read it."_ _

__Sherlock carefully takes the letter and even more gently opens it. It takes him merely a minute to read it. His voice is soft when he speaks, "Is it true?"_ _

__Sherlock looks up from the letter and into John's eyes. John stands to face Sherlock._ _

__"Every word."_ _

__"May I ask you two favours?"_ _

__"Of course, anything."_ _

__"Say the last three words of your letter out loud._ _

__John gives a big watery smile, his emotions catching him, "Of course. _I love you_."_ _

__Sherlock smiles big and catches his bottom lip between his teeth._ _

__"And the other favour?" John gently prompts._ _

__Sherlock gives a small laugh, looks away, and John realizes the look on Sherlock's face is bashful._ _

__Sherlock takes a deep breath and whispers, "Kiss me?"_ _

__John gives a happy little laugh, "Easiest favour you've ever asked of me." He steps forward and gently brings his hands up to Sherlock's face, tilts his head and places a gentle kiss on those cupid lips._ _

__After a moment John leans back and smiles and laughs again, he's so happy._ _

__Sherlock joins him and quickly they're laughing together. Pure joy at their mutual revelation of each other._ _

__"Sherlock Holmes, I could kiss you forever."_ _

__"Is that a promise?"_ _

__"Do you want it to be?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"Then it is. I swear to you Sherlock, I will love you for all of this lifetime and all of the next and any after that. I love you."_ _

__"I love you, John."_ _

__They spend the rest of Christmas Eve bundled on the couch together under blankets with hot cocoa, watching the fire and lazily kissing until they fall asleep together._ _

__Though just as he's drifting off, John imagines their little grey tabby, who's watching them from under the tree, tilts her head and winks._ _

__

__~The End~_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Ah! I hope you liked it! I know you like Dr Who so yay for vague references to time travelling aliens!


End file.
